


can’t bounce back this time

by Chillatrix



Series: Umbra Witches AU [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bayonetta tag is only because Rodin is here, Demons, Drinking to Cope, Family Drama, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Retirement, Umbra Witch!Della, Umbra Witch!Donald, Witchcraft, and he’s a devil dog :), but that’s cuz of Della
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chillatrix/pseuds/Chillatrix
Summary: It’s been a day since the betrayal, and Donald thinks it’s time to hang up the gloves.
Relationships: Della Duck & Donald Duck, Donald Duck & Scrooge McDuck
Series: Umbra Witches AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016466
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	1. unofficial retirement

**Author's Note:**

> <:) the AU literally no one asked for, yayyy...
> 
> In all seriousness, I LOVE Bayonetta, and since I’m trying to get back into Ducktales fanfics, I figured this would be a good AU to delve into! Umbra Witches and Lumen Sages are cool as fuck >:D
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Anyone near him would say he’s mad, walking into an abandoned building site like this.

The building is a ghost of itself, there's no one around for miles, and there’s many a decaying sign warning of the fate of trespassers. Not that there _were_ any mind you, apart from the ivory duck who walks past the gate as though it were a normal day.

Yes, there’s many reasons to say that Donald Duck is mad.

But the purring black cat outside adores the madness he’s presumed to have, as well as the attention Donald gives it. He laughs very softly as it rolls over, content in taking a nap at such a late hour.

Donald opens the door, the steel stained and decaying in its paint. If one were to peer in after him, they’d see nothing but an empty room, lit only by the moonlight that chased after the duck.

However, as soon as Donald crosses the threshold, the room suddenly sports an elaborate ceiling light, purple glass encasing it, but somehow emanating a _blue_ light. The room shifts to a lounge bar, elaborate, yet _dangerous_ in vibe.

Red neon lights shine behind the bar, reading, _‘Gates of Hell.’_

A tall dog with broad shoulders and an intimidating look stands behind it, already preparing a drink for the duck. His ears have a few scars and tears, a few slices missing, the left side of his face tattooed with an elaborate symbol none could place.

“Fancy seeing _you_ here,” he greets, setting the glass down as Donald sits on a stool before him.

“Rum and coke,” Donald notices, smirking at his friend. “Rodin, you _really_ know how to treat a man.”

“Only care for the ones that pay me,” Rodin hums, gathering a cigar from its case. He offers one to the duck, but it’s declined. Rodin lights it with a purple flame igniting from his thumb, and soon breathes the smoke in deeply.

“I don’t suppose you’ve already heard the news,” Donald murmurs quietly after they settle in their respective roles; the bartender who serves and the drunken bastard paying his bills.

Rodin nods once. It’s all he really _can_ do. “Haven’t heard about the fates of Della’s kids, however.”

“I’ll… _I’ll_ have to raise them. Grandma is too old to be doing this type of shit, and Gus is too… too _normal,_ y’know?”

“And what about that asshole in the top hat?”

Donald’s drip tightens around the glass as he quickly throws back his drink, grimacing as his body adjusts to the alcohol. “I’m too pissed to be considering him.”

“Fair enough,” Rodin fills the glass once again. “But are they…?”

“No, thank God,” the duck laughs bitterly. “Three mortal boys. Seems whoever got Della was just so _human_ that she couldn’t resist.”

“Sorry to hear.”

“Yeah…” Donald looks down into his drink, seeing the asshole in the reflection stare back just the same. “...So am I.”

Rodin is silent for a few moments. The bar is comforting to the duck, he can recognize, but Donald never came in for simple chats, running in circles about dramas that occurred in his life, or pacing around the room to curse the luck that came with the contract with Madama Khepri.

“Can’t help but notice you haven’t told me why you’re here,” the dog opts to say, his tone and body saying he could care less, but their friendship saying that he’s _needing_ to know what’s eating him.

“...I think I’m retiring.”

If this place was capable, it’d get colder after hearing those words.

Donald finishes his drink once again, this time declining another fill. _“I’m_ going to be the one raising the boys. _I’m_ the one who’s going to let them have their normal life. Umbran Laws be damned, I’m _not_ letting go of them.”

Rodin smirks, but it doesn’t quite match the rest of him. “Always the rebels, you Ducks.”

“And _proud_ of it,” Donald jokes back with a smirk similar.

His gaze soon lowers, however, eyes closing as he rests his hands on his forehead. “I’ve already spoken to Madama Khepri,” he reveals. “She wasn’t too happy, but there’s only so much she can do to change a mind like mine.”

“As expected. But what will you do when the inevitable comes?”

“How do you mean?”

Rodin sighs quietly, puffing on his cigar. “You can’t avoid Top Hat forever, you know. Sure, you might get a decade into the whole normal gig, but you’ll have to face him _and_ the betrayal, whether you’re ready or not. And my guess is, you’re never gonna be ready.

“I won’t say I understand everything in the soap opera that’s your life, but I _do_ understand that men like him always crawl back. He lashes out, you respond by leaving, but there he is again, wanting to take back the cuts and the bruises and make himself a saviour in your eyes.”

Donald scoffs, and shakes his head. This isn’t an act to disprove the words, nor an act of him disbelieving them. It was simply one of response, showing Rodin that he was listening in his pitiful state.

“So I’ll ask again, and you _know_ how much I hate repeating myself… What will you do, Donald?”

There’s silence as Donald lifts himself from the seat, breathing deeply.

“...Play the waiting game, I suppose,” is his only answer.

Because even as the wisdom of his pact enhances so much of his life, Donald can’t see the future. He can only worry about that inevitability, worry and pray that he’ll be more capable of imagining such a possibility.

Uncle Scrooge is just as mortal as the triplets. One would argue that an Umbra Witch raising mortals is a recipe for disaster, chaos brewing and bubbling and just _waiting_ for calamity to pour into the world.

But that Umbra Witch would rather _die_ than let his sister, in both blood and power, lose her children to the man that led her to her demise.

The calamity will just have to happen with Donald staying out of it. This was for the best, after all.

“Thanks for this, Rodin,” Donald murmurs as he lays down the pistols given to him some years ago. _‘The ultimate act of retirement,’_ he thinks with a bitter smile.

And the demon dog takes them with a bitter smirk of his own. “You were the best at keeping my babies pristine,” he compliments after setting the pistols under the counter. “Even _if_ you broke ‘em often.”

“Keep up that talk and I might never come back.”

“Woe is me.”

With that said, Donald leaves with his head held high and his heart a little more full.

Rodin is a good friend, helping him and Della ever since they first came into their Witchcraft. It was truly saddening to have to leave him and their world behind.

Madama Khepri certainly made her distaste show, oftentimes moving a few furnitures to make him stub his toe and bruise his sides. But Donald knew she was just trying to make him rethink his decision.

But ultimately, the choice was his.

And right now, his choice is leading him back to Gladstone’s apartment, where the three eggs awaited their caretaker.

The Umbra Witch Donald Duck was no more.

Long reign the age of Donald Duck, short-tempered uncle of three young ducklings.


	2. QUICK UPDATE

Hi, terribly sorry to make this an entire chapter and throw off the formatting of this story, but I wanted to link my Ducktales Tumblr because I’m Dumb Of Ass and forgot to do that in chapter 1 <:(

You can find it [here!](https://im-crackshell67.tumblr.com/)

  
also also, the next chapter may be late and for that, I’m extremely sorry, my files haven’t been stable as of late and I’m currently fixing the issue <3

thank you, see you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> :D comments and questions are greatly welcomed, but bear in mind that I can’t give too much away <3
> 
> Also, just a note: Clan McDuck is completely human, mainly because I don’t think Scrooge would be too keen on having magic.


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